#I’d say we need to show a rich person the show
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paperstorm · 3 days ago
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Thanks for the tags @ironheartwriter @heartstringsduet @henrygrass and @nisbanisba!!
May I offer just a little bit from a scene that truly is one of my favourite scenes I have ever written.
-
“You know, I, uh …” TK lets his fingers wander over the strings, the rich sound of the acoustic floating through the cavernous theater. “I was supposed to come see you a few months ago. But I … um.”
TK swallows. Scattered shouts from the crowd bounce off the walls. He hadn’t decided, yet, whether he was going to talk about it on stage. He knew it would be a massive elephant in every room if he didn’t, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to summon the courage. Tonight, Carlos’s words from earlier in the week keep ringing in his head – his praise for the honesty and vulnerability in TK’s lyrics.
“I had some shit to work out,” TK says, settling on keeping it vague. He doesn’t doubt every person in the place knows what he’s talking about, he doesn’t need to spell it out for them. “So, I wanted to say I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Chicago, and I really, really want to thank you for showing up tonight. It means a lot to me.”
The audience is momentarily deafening, and TK catches more than a few screeched We love you’s! Smiling and plucking at the strings, he says, “I love you guys, too. And I thought, uh. As a thank you for understanding why I had to cancel the last show, and for being willing to reschedule our night together, I thought maybe I’d play you guys something that I’ve never played live before.”
Laughter bubbles up out of him as the racket they make nearly brings the rafters down.
“Is that a ‘yes’?” he teases, to continued screaming. “Because it’s a song about you guys, actually. It’s about how much I love being here with you, and how scared I was that I was gonna let you down when things in my life weren’t going very well.”
The words catch in his throat. Movement distracts him for a moment and TK glances to his left, to find his bandmates in the wings, just out of sight of the crowd but visible from where he’s standing. Carlos, TK notices after a second, is with them. He smiles, and TK’s shaking hands calm just a little bit.
Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut
@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringduet
@goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry
@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @whatsintheboxmh @bonheur-cafe
@reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms @lemonlyman-dotcom
@sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce
@fifthrideroftheapocalypse @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian
@tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes @ditheringmind
@emsprovisions @irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89
@carlossreaders @ladytessa74
Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk
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biscuitrule · 1 year ago
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If only rich people today had taste or were involved in fandom because they literally have the resources to make what they want happen.
If I was rich I’d patron the fuck out of the arts. You’d 100% catch me personally funding the Lockwood and Co renewal. No price too high.
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wickedghxst · 2 years ago
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can they start making pants & socks for girls with long legs & thick thighs please. i’m not some little twig girl. is this why they usually wore dresses/skirts.
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sophiethewitch1 · 6 months ago
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What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight
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In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
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“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.
And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.
Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.
And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.
This was just… bizarre.
“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.
Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.
He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.
“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”
It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.
“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.
Tim hums. “No, we did not.”
Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.
“Seriously?”
“What? You’re the friendly one.”
Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.
Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”
“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.
“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”
“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”
“You mean stalking.”
“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”
Dick sighs again.
“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.
‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx
“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?
“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”
“What?!”
“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.
“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”
Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.
“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.
The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.
He glances back down at his phone.
“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.
“Intrigued yet?”
Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.
He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.
Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.
Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.
Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.
A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!
He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.
Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.
Underwear_guy: Where are you?
Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.
Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.
You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.
“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.
You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea. 
“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.
Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.
“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”
Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.
-
George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.
Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.
Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.
Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.
You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?
You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.
…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.
You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!
“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.
Good. That was damn well good.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.
Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.
“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”
“You bit me!”
Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.
“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.
“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?
You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.
“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.
George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.
George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.
White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.
Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.
You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.
You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.
“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.
“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.
“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?
Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.
“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.
He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.
…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.
“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”
You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.
“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.
Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.
Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.
Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.
Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.
There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?
For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.
He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.
Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.
“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.
“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.
“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.
He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.
You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.
Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.
“So, how are you feeling?”
Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.
“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.
You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.
“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.
While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…
“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”
“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.
You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.
Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.
Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.
Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.
The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.
“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”
“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.
“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.
You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.
Dick doesn’t make it any better.
“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.
“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.
You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.
Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.
His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.
“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”
Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.
Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.
Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-
You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.
And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.
Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.
“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”
“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”
“And you know I always will, right?”
Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.
It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.
You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.
Your feelings must show on your face.
Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.
“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.
Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.
You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.
“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”
Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.
“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.
Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.
You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.
In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.
Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.
For now, you give him your back as well.
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MASTERLIST - NEXT
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ham1lton · 5 months ago
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DO YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME ?
summary: assistant yn takes to instagram to answer some questions from her followers!
pairings: mentions of lando/reader, lewis/reader, max/reader, charles/reader, jude/reader and oscar/reader.
author’s note: thank you to everyone who sent in questions! i can’t thank you all individually, but genuinely i want to say i appreciated your asks!!! this series has only gone on as long as it has due to everyone’s interest and contributions ! <3
— part of the dream girl universe!
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START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (5K WATCHING)
(the camera turns to show yn, smiling as she balances the phone against the bathroom mirror as she attempts to finish doing her hair as she faces the camera. she hums along with the song in background which is anticipating by britney spears.)
YN: hello my darlings!! i promised i’d do a ig live once i reached five million followers and here i am!
user1: HI QUEEN
user3: are you at lewis’ house?
YN: no, i’m actually at my own apartment. i do have my own apartment. i don’t live with lewis? you do know that right? it’s important to me that you know this.
user4: coulda fooled us.
user2: this song is a BOP!
user5: thought u were couch surfing.
YN: anyways, i’m gonna answer some questions.
user6: if you had to describe your aesthetic in 3 words, how would you describe it?
YN: hmmmm…. i’d like to say fun, loud and sexy. i like bright colours. my dream comparison is to the hot older sisters from those 2000s movies. y’know? love graphic tees but also form fitting dresses. best part of having a athlete as a boss is that i always get to use his home gym to work out! and i get tips from his nutritionist and personal trainer all the time.
user7: is that the best part of your job?
YN: um… obviously roscoe is the best part of my job. we’re besties. lewis hates it. you know those trends were the family stand next to each other and wait for the kid to choose who’s arms to run into? we did that with roscoe and he chose me. i don’t think lewis has gotten over the betrayal.
user8: it only happened once though right?
user9: maybe it was a fluke?
YN: he said that so we did it five times… and he chose me every time. i really can’t help it that everyone loves me!
user8: yn, what is your type in a guy?
YN: it’s so specific but it’s also not specific at all? like i’ll need to feel out vibes and chemistry before i can say yes or no? but generally i like guys who make me laugh, i feel comfortable around and who smell good. also a cute smile is a big bonus.
user2: i need your thoughts on the new f1 movie and the season so far!!
YN: lewis winning his home race was just pure perfection. he’s the GOAT. i don’t care what you twitter warriors have to say. also charles winning his home race was very emotional for me. that’s all i’ll say. lando’s race win was so much fun cause we were in the club for hours afterwards. the film is a bit much but i keep seeing damson idris everytime i walk onto the paddock and that’s a treat. he’s so fine.
user6: hey yn where and how do i bag a man like charles?? i need a play by play …. i want princess treatment too😩😩
YN: babe i’ve been asking the same thing but lewis forbade me from taking roscoe out on walks to entice rich monegasque men. it’s very upsetting to me. i’ll text charles about your proposal, maybe he’ll accept?!
landonorris: HI YN 👋🏼
YN: hi lando! we still on for tonight?
landonorris: always 😁
user10: what’s happening tonight??
landoynnie: MY TIME TO SHINE 😁😁😁
landonorris: i love britney spears too!
user9: landonorris name five britney songs GO!
landonorris: slave 4 u, toxic, hit me baby one more time, anticipating (cause yn always plays it in the car) and deep in my heart.
YN: i do love anticipating. this is my pump up and get ready song!
landoynnie: WAIT…. U AND LANDO SHARE THE SAME CAR?????? U GUYS R MARRIED REALLY
user10: landoynnie ur delusional
YN: my normal apartment is close to lando’s, so he gives me a lift sometimes. no biggie.
lewishamilton: next time i’ll order you an uber yn.
landonorris: it’s better this way lewishamilton, good for the environment 😁
lewishamilton: 🙄
user11: yn, what does your daily routine look like?
YN: wake up, get breakfast. i usually make my way over to lewis’ if i’m not already there. i feed roscoe, take him out for his business if you get my drift. play with him, triple check lewis’ schedule and then lewis will meet me at around seven. he eats, then he goes for a run or a workout. i don’t join him so i sort through emails and boring paperwork. a lot of my job is basically just emails and paperwork. then i go with lewis to whatever events he has that day, do a bunch of behind the scenes work and then i come back. i eat dinner with him most days, and then i go home and sleep!
user12: sounds boring.
user13: sound sexy omg. i would DIE to be around lewis all day.
YN (laughing): it is boring! it’s a job.
user13: what are your fav tasks to do for lewis?
YN: i get to drive his cars sometimes. he has a bad habit of forgetting things so i’m the one who jumps in the car and goes back and gets it. i love doing that. the drives are so smooth and i get to blast my playlist but i always blast my playlists.
user14: do u listen to xnda’s feature?
user15: i listen to ur playlists all the time btw!
YN: pookies, i listen to xnda’s songs all the time. i get access to his unreleased stuff. i’m there when he records it sometimes.
user14: IM SO JEALOUS
user16: THAT SHOULD BE ME 😒😒😔
user17: pookie they are saying youre fucking that bald guy for diamonds, bags and trips is it true??? please say it isn’t 😭😭
YN: WHAT BALD GUY?
user18: THE WAY U DIDNT EVEN DENY IT???
YN: i have never slept with anyone for diamonds or bags or trips. i work! i have a good salary and a great boss. you can check my bank account honestly.
user19: is ur type bald men?
YN: god no! shout out to the baldies though.
user20: LMFAOOOOOO
user4: yn, i heard you were interviewed quite a few times for this season of drive to survive. can you give us a little spoiler? what was it about?
YN: omg who’s leaking this info…. but yes! i was! a lot of it was just about lewis obviously but who doesn’t love hearing new info about thee sir lewis hamilton? i don’t think i can tell you anything more than that. i’m scared i’ll get sued or that netflix have a sniper trained on me and will shoot me before i finish the sentence.
user4: thank you for what you did tell us!
user21: what is the most unexpected song u and lewis have sang at karaoke
YN: well, lewis is a better singer than me. so i like to do the rap parts but he’s also a better rapper than me. so i do like the adlibs. but we did umbrella the other day! that was fun. i usually do karaoke with lando because we both get so drunk it’s fun. also he can’t sing at all. so it makes me feel better.
user22: what do you and lando sing?
YN: we did high school musical the other day! i was troy.
user23: HELSOSO
user24: lando: oh is this necklace ‘Y’ for yn? 😃
user16: if lando is gabrielle… who’s sharpay and stealing yn from lando….
user19: obvi oscar.
user25: i miss landoyn’s drunk ig stories.
user21: speaking of music, yn how did you feel when jessica left snsd 😔
YN: i remember exactly where i was. same thing when zayn left one direction. they both affected me personally. worst day ever. she was my bias too…. my comfort bad bitch….
user12: ZAYN LEAVING 1D OH GOD
user13: i remember that…. my school was in shambles!!!
user7: SHOUT OUT JESSICA GIRLIES … we all suffered together 😔
oscarpiastri: hi yn. what’s this.
YN: hello oscar piastri. this is my instagram live. do you have a question for me?
oscarpiastri: yes. what are you doing later?
user21: OOOP
user12: oscaryn comes up to clinch the title of couple goals.
lewisynnie: say ur busy yn <3
landoynnie: why is he asking out his teammate’s gf??
charlesynnie: landoynnie maybe because they’re not dating and you’re delusional?
landoynnie: charlesynnie says the CHARLESYN STAN ACCOUNT !!!
judeynnie: the way all of you are delusional. did you see yn like the jude tiktok edit? that’s her man.
lewisynnie: judeynnie A FLUKE! a mistake. maybe she just liked the beat. it means nothing.
maxynnie: well. this is a lot. hmm.
oscarynnie: SAY YES YN!!!! OSCARYN ENDGAME PLEASE GOD!!!!
YN: i am free this evening. what do you have planned?
oscarpiastri: i’ll text you, see you later yn!
oscarynnie: WE WON WE WONW EON WE WON
lewisynnie: oscarynnie who cares.
landoynnie: literally like… 😹
user21: YOU’RE ALL DELUSIONAL HOW ABOUT THAT !
END INSTAGRAM LIVE. (123K WATCHING)
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— dream girl series taglist: @flowergirl1134 @laur20a23 @greantii @rafebun @sumlovesjude @papayadays
— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @lavisenri @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi
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clockwayswrites · 1 year ago
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Orange, City Pigeon, Danny & Batfam @roanawayspoons WC: 864 CW: Blood, injury
“I’m just saying, you shouldn’t get to be Red by default.”
“Well I can’t be Robin and Hood is a unique identifier.”
“No, nope, just because you weren’t creative enough to come up with something other than Red Robin you shouldn’t get to just claim Red.”
“Creative enough? Oh that’s rich from the man who ripped off the Joker.”
“It was poetic!”
“It was lazy.”
“Look here, bird bones—” …and Tim was gone, Jason thought with a sigh. He turned back to see Tim still before the last jump, staring down into the alleyway with a tilted head. Jason’s hand went to one of his guns. “Red?”
“Blood.”
“And? It’s Gotham. I think the city is held together by blood at this point.”
“Green blood, Hood.”
“How do you know it’s blood then?” Jason asked, but stalked forward to look. Alright, maybe the splatter was pretty distinctive.
That particular shade of green was also concernedly distinctive.
“Well, fuck.”
“Yep.”
“Who bleeds Lazarus water?”
“No clue,” Tim said unhelpfully. “Guess we better find out.”
They dropped silently down into the alley, one after another, and followed the trail of toxic green blood. The trail went cold a few times, whoever was bleeding was clearly trying to hide, but they were inexperienced at it and the Bats had spent enough time stalking through the streets of this city that the cement and stone basically spoke to them. The trail couldn’t hide from them.
Without warning, Jason shot his arm out to stop Tim. He tapped the side of his helmet silently; he heard something. Tim nodded and they fanned out to search. A door in this latest alley they were in was cracked open, like someone had tried to close it and it had bounced back off the latch.
A green hand print was smeared down it.
Jason pulled a gun from his holster, but let Tim go through first. While Jason was far lighter on his feet than someone his size should be, there was no denying that Tim was stealthier. Jason would be just a few steps behind ready to provide the muscles and firepower.
It was odd, then, when Tim purposefully let his foot scrape against the ground as he rounded the corner. Jason just cursed silently as the idiot continued forward, cutting himself off from Jason’s line of sight. “Hey, looks like you could use some help with that wound before you bleed out.”
Jason couldn’t hear what was said back; he edged closer.
“You must not be from Gotham. I’m Red Robin, one of the heroes here.”
The person snorted. “Just… over… then?”
Tim laughed. It was one of his many fake laughs, but the one meant to soothe people in trouble. “Why would I do that? I’m a vigilante. Do you know how illegal what I do is? I just don’t want to see you bleed out. Maybe I can even take you to a safe house where you can rest.
“So… interrogate me?”
“I mean, I’d like to know who tried to kill a kid, but that’s to make them pay, not you.”
Jason’s hand gripped his gun so tightly it hurt.
The person… the kid laughed. It was a broken sound that no kid should have to make.
Jason had heard it a lot on the streets.
“Maybe I deserve it.” Their voice was raspy, like every word caught in their throat.
Jason came around the corner. The kid went rigid, which was the last thing they needed with how blood seeped from their fingers where their pale hand was clutched against a too big hoodie.
Tim leaned casually into Jason's space in a way he wouldn’t normally, putting on a show for the kid that Red Hood was safe. It was at least true for the kid. Jason leaned back, mostly for the comfort of having his brother close in the face of the sight. Seeing bloody kids never got easier.
“You’re what, sixteen?” Jason asked.
“…fifteen?”
“Yeah, no fifteen year old deserves to bleed out. You know who I am?”
They shook their head. It dislodged the hood a little. The tangled, chin length hair was startling white and splattered with dried green blood. Jason forced himself to take a breath.
“I’m Red Hood. I protect part of this city called Crime Alley. I’m not afraid to kill a shithead, especially ones that hurt kids, but I never harm a kid. I’ve got places to put you if you need somewhere safe; places not in the system. Or get you somewhere. Do you have a place to go to?”
The kid laughed again. Somehow it sounded worse this time. “That’s the thing. I do. I might, I guess. Just no one is going to believe me.”
“Why won’t they believe you? Where do you need to get?” Tim asked.
The kid looked up. Jason felt Tim tense against him. Hell, Jason tensed. They were the wrong color, but Jason knew those eyes, those brows, that slope of the nose. Everything was just a little sideways, but Jason knew that face. He knew what the kid was going to say.
“I need to get to Bruce Wayne.”
--- AN: Happy Trauma Tuesday~
Feel free to continue this, use it as a prompt if you'd like!
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kissitbttr · 1 year ago
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Miggy getting babied by his pregnant wife?
hiii! i hope you don’t mind, i changed it a bit because I don’t want it to look too much alike on the other one! this one’s short, enjoy! xx
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being a mother to a 6 month old pregnancy bump isn’t easy. if it was, fathers could do it.
and that’s what miguel had been learning through it all. seeing your mood swings shift in a span of thirty seconds, constant cravings for ice creams, kebabs etc, snapping (directly at him and mostly at him), frequent backaches and fatigue. he’s very much impressed how an existence of a human being living inside of you could actually change you as a person.
still, doesn’t mean he loves you less.
“ugh, i’d give my left tit for a big plate of mofongos and a fat ass joint right now”
the two of you are cuddled up in the couch, watching some lame old american tv show that miguel seems to find enjoyable. you’re dressed in one of his t-shirt and grey sweatpants. ones that you had claimed as yours despite miguel’s protest.
your husband chuckles, pulling you closer by the shoulder. “lucky you, mami. i bought an extra before i came home just for you. i could heat it up for you later if you want.”
a dreamy sigh escape your lips, reaching out to kiss his cheek. “thanks papi. you’re the best. what about the joint?”
he snorts, head shaking as his eyes cast down to yours. “i don’t think weed is good for the baby.”
“says who?” you fake a gasp, pulling back slightly. “it’s literally herbal! unless it’s contaminated with tobacco. don’t we have a stash up in the closet?”
“you finished them all, ma. basically rolling those joints with your pretty fingers before this happened” he points at the bump. “usted es avaro, mi corazon. barely left some for me”
a smile pulls up into your mouth, head resting against his bare chest. hand interlocking with his. “remember when we were celebrating our one year anniversary and got high?”
“ay dios mio” he groans playfully, rolling his head back. “don’t remind me, baby”
“it was so fun” you ignore the embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, grinning even wider when he tries to hide it. “we went to taco bell after.”
“yeah and i threw it up because it tasted like shit”
you hum, nodding along. “and decided to get shawarmas and fries instead because we weren’t satisfied”
“one with the small food truck in 133th street” he confirms, his cheek against the crown of your hair. smiling at the memory. “i remember you told me not to get ones from across that italian place that you like because we need to support small business. had to stop you from crying too much because you kept saying how unfair it was for rich bastards to keep open up restaurants when they have shitty palate”
his comment makes you laugh hard. his grip around your hand tighten. some sort of pride blooms in his chest when he sees you laugh freely like that.
“oh god i remember!” as you slowly recover from the laugh. “we sat on the pavement after that right? you kept telling me how you want me to be the mother of your child.”
“damn, why do you keep recalling all the embarrassing things i did, huh?” he asks jokingly with a deep chuckle. now his attention isn’t even on the tv anymore.
“because it’s cute! you were so cute!” he shakes his head once more, biting down a shy smile as you shift your body weight to wrap your arms around his neck. “my miggy is so cute with the ‘i want you to be my wife, i want to get you pregnant, mi amor. say yes please, please, pleaseeeee’”
you continue to mock his actions back then, watching him cower down at the attempt of you trying to mimic his voice. strangely enough, you almost got it right.
he has his hands covered his face.“stop that, princesa! come onnnn”
you respond with a head shake as a ‘no’. “ay, papi don’t be shy” you giggle, trying to pry his hands off. “come on. let me see my hubby. let me see him”
miguel doesn’t budge for a while before peeking in-between his fingers like a little kid, then slowly peeling his hands away, jutting his lower lip forward.
you gasp, hand over your heart. “god damn! you can’t be walking around looking like that! can’t have all the girls falling for the sexiest man alive”
he rolls his eyes, smiling at your compliment. “stop being biased, baby!”
“i am not! how dare you calling the mother of your kid a liar, hm?” you tug him down, letting his head rest in between your neck and shoulder blade. “my baby daddy is sooo handsome. i won the fucking lottery.”
“definitely the other way around, love.” he disagrees, hand coming up to rest on your bump. “you stole my heart the moment you walked into my office that day. never thought in my life that a gorgeous architect made me get down on my knees and pray to the lord up there to let me have you.”
now that makes your heart skips a beat. how could you compete with that? he never fails to make you swoon even after years of being with him. it’s like the butterflies never stopped.
“hmm now you’re being biased, miggy”
“nope. i was so sure that i was in love with you.” he then turns to look up to you, tone becoming serious. “my god, you were the finest thing i have ever laid my eyes upon, mami. was literally bending over backwards to impress you. and now? seeing you swollen with my baby just made you ten times more gorgeous than before. you’re the love of my life, mi amor. and i will prove it to you for the rest of my life if i had to”
truly, you had never believe in luck or hope. it’s something that never sits well with you. odds never had been in your favor and you believed that for the longest time. you were fine being all alone. you have a job that pays you well, great condo, a body that you learned to adore, a loving mother. four things that you have always been so grateful for. you wouldn’t change a single thing.
but when miguel happened? everything in your life had changed for much better. from having to do everything on your own to ‘i got this one baby’. sure, you weren’t exactly comfortable with it at first, because you had never been the one who had asked for help.
yet you learned to love it all because of him,
with a grateful smile, you trace your fingertips across his soft lips. beautiful red eyes not leaving yours, as if he’s afraid that if he looks away for a second he would lose you completely,
“you’re the love of my life too, miguel”
-
don’t forget to reblog and comment babes!! xx
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rafeandonlyrafe · 10 months ago
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i am a rich man
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words: 1k
warnings: misogyny, brief mention of violence, reader is a kook
a/n: im on vacation starting tomorrow monday 1/22-friday so i will not be posting any new fics for this week!
“have you decided what car you want baby?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you scroll through the dealerships website.
“i’ve narrowed it down to two.” you tilt your phone towards rafe, letting him look at one car before navigating to the other tab to show him.
“why don’t you test drive both and decide after that? and if you like both, just buy both.” rafe shrugs. it was weird for him at first being with someone who had even more money than his family, but now he’s grown used to it, liking knowing you can support yourself if needed, even though rafe likes to buy most things for you.
“good point.” you hum. “i’d have to park one on the driveway though, my dad is only giving me one spot in the garage.” you pout. your dad has a mild obsession with sports cars, and therefore three of the four spots in the garage were already taken.
“lets not worry about it now, figure it out after you see them in person.” rafe says, and you nod, getting up off the couch to head to the dealership, glad that rafe agreed to drive you and test the cars with you, mainly because you didn’t want to spend the day without him.
it’s a long drive to the nearest dealership that had cars in your price range, but you don’t mind as you sing along to your favorite songs playing through rafes trucks speakers, always letting you be the dj even if he can’t stand some of the girly pop songs that you play.
“almost there.” rafe reaches over, squeezing your thigh as the dealership finally comes into view.
“thank god.” you groan. “my butt is starting to go numb.” “don’t talk about your butt when we are about to be in public.” rafe warns, glancing over at you as you giggle.
“sorry baby.” you say, in a voice that tells rafe that you’re not at all sorry.
“let me drop you off at the front, i’ll park the car then join you inside.” rafe says upon pulling in and realizing that there are no close parking spots, and he doesn’t want to make you walk outside for longer than he has to.
“mmkay, thanks baby.” you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, always extra appreciative and lovey on rafe when he does sweet things for you, even if its just something little.
you hop out of the truck, heading inside the main showroom of the dealership.
“hello, ma’am!” a sales associate instantly hurries over to you. “i’m john, did you have an appointment?” “no, but i’ve checked out your inventory online and i know what i’d like to test drive today.” you say with a fake smile right back, already not liking the condescending attitude that john is giving off.
“alright, well lets take a seat at my desk and you can tell me your budget.” john walks you over to his cubicle, and before he can begin talking you’re joined by rafe.
“this is my boyfriend, he’s helping me pick out a car today.” you say as he sits down next to you, reaching over and looping your fingers through his, already eyeing up john as he tries to size him up.
“hello, sir.” john smiles. “so what is your budget?” he addresses the question at rafe, making your eyebrows scrunch together.
“well,” you answer, making johns gaze flick quickly to you, “budget isn’t an issue. i know what two cars i would like to look at.”
“okay, if you just want to tell me the models i will pull them up.” john turns the computer screen so you all can see as you tell him the two cars that peaked your interest the most.
“and i assume you will be financing?” he hums. you glance at rafe, shocked that he would have the audacity to assume anything.
“no.” rafe answers for you. “in full.” “okay, that makes sense that you will be paying, sir.” john says, nonchalantly as if he didn’t just imply that you wouldn’t be able to afford the car.
“as said before, i will be the one purchasing the car, so while my boyfriend is here to help me, i am your customer.” you clear up, hand squeezing rafes as you try to hold back your anger, knowing you can get just as fired up as him.
“sorry, just don’t see many young women being able to buy cars like these outright.” he says before quickly switching the subject, going through some of the specs of the vehicles. “and the cost on that one is $94,000.”
“wait a minute.” you rub your forehead, getting tired of this mans bullshit. “while i said money was no issue, that doesn’t mean that i’m going to let you get away with scamming me. that car is worth no more than 75.” “well, ma’am, there are various-” “no.” you shake your head. “i have done my research on these vehicles and i know that ever 75 is on the high end.” “let me double check my figures.” john swallows nervously, turning the screen so only he can see it as you send a look at rafe, seeing he’s struggling just as much as you not to reach across the desk and smack the misogynistic sales associate across the face.
“my apologies, i must have accidentally selected an additional maintenance package. it is $74,000.” john says.
“that sounds much more reasonable, but i will not be purchasing a car from someone who tries to scam me out of my money just because they think i’m a dumb girl. get me a different sales associate, now.” you command.
john scurries away from the desk, the stark opposite of the cockiness air that he had when you first arrived.
“jesus, you’re hot when you’re scary.” rafe says, looking you up and down as you smirk at your boyfriend, knowing while you’re usually sickly sweet, when a man irks you wrong, it brings out your full wrath.
taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645
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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year ago
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Monsters Reimagined: Bandits
As a game of heroic fantasy that centers so primarily on combat, D&D  is more often than not a game about righteous violence, which is why I spend so much time thinking about the targets of that violence. Every piece of media made by humans is a thing created from conscious or unconscious design, it’s saying something whether or not its creators intended it to do so. 
Tolkien made his characters peaceloving and pastoral, and coded his embodiment of evil as powerhungry, warlike, and industrial. When d&d directly cribbed from Tolkien's work it purposely changed those enemies to be primitive tribespeople who were resentful of the riches the “civilized” races possessed. Was this intentional? None can say, but as a text d&d says something decidedly different than Tolkien. 
That's why today I want to talk about bandits, the historical concept of being an “outlaw”, and how media uses crime to “un-person” certain classes of people in order to give heroes a target to beat up. 
Tldr: despite presenting bandits as a generic threat, most d&d scenarios never go into detail about what causes bandits to exist, merely presuming the existence of outlaws up to no good that the heroes should feel no qualms about slaughtering. If your story is going to stand up to the scrutiny of your players however, you need to be aware of WHY these individuals have been driven to banditry, rather than defaulting to “they broke the law so they deserve what’s coming to them.”
I got to thinking about writing this post when playing a modded version of fallout 4, an npc offhndedly mentioned to me that raiders (the postapoc bandit rebrand) were too lazy to do any farming and it was good that I’d offed them by the dozens so that they wouldn’t make trouble for those that did. 
That gave me pause, fallout takes place in an irradiated wasteland where folks struggle to survive but this mod was specifically about rebuilding infrastructure like farms and ensuring people had enough to get by. Lack of resources to go around was a specific justification for why raiders existed in the first place, but as the setting became more arable the mod-author had to create an excuse why the bandit’s didn’t give up their violent ways and start a nice little coop, settling on them being inherently lazy , dumb, and psychopathic.   
This is exactly how d&d has historically painted most of its “monstrous humanoid” enemies. Because the game is ostensibly about combat the authors need to give you reasons why a peaceful solution is impossible, why the orcs, goblins, gnolls (and yes, bandits), can’t just integrate with the local town or find a nice stretch of wilderness to build their own settlement on and manage in accordance with their needs. They go so far in this justification that they end up (accidently or not) recreating a lot of IRL arguments for persecution and genocide.
Bandits are interesting because much like cultists, it’s a descriptor that’s used to unperson groups of characters who would traditionally be inside the “not ontologically evil” bubble that’s applied to d&d’s protagonists.   Break the law or worship the wrong god says d&d and you’re just as worth killing as the mindless minions of darkness, your only purpose to serve as a target of the protagonist’s righteous violence.  
The way we get around this self-justification pitfall and get back to our cool fantasy action game is to relentlessly question authority, not only inside the game but the authors too. We have to interrogate anyone who'd show us evil and direct our outrage a certain way because if we don't we end up with crusades, pogroms, and Qanon.
With that ethical pill out of the way, I thought I’d dive into a listing of different historical groups that we might call “Bandits” at one time or another and what worldbuilding conceits their existence necessitates. 
Brigands: By and large the most common sort of “bandit” you’re going to see are former soldiers left over from wars, often with a social gap between them and the people they’re raiding that prevents reintegration ( IE: They’re from a foreign land and can’t speak the local tongue, their side lost and now they’re considered outlaws, they’re mercenaries who have been stiffed on their contract).  Justifying why brigands are out brigading is as easy as asking yourself “What were the most recent conflicts in this region and who was fighting them?”. There’s also something to say about how a life of trauma and violence can be hard to leave even after the battle is over, which is why you historically tend to see lots of gangs and paramilitary groups pop up in the wake of conflict. 
Raiders:  fundamentally the thing that has caused cultures to raid eachother since the dawn of time is sacristy. When the threat of starvation looms it’s far easier to justify potentially throwing your life away if it means securing enough food to last you and those close to you through the next year/season/day. Raider cultures develop in biomes that don’t support steady agriculture, or in times where famine, war, climate change, or disease make the harvests unreliable. They tend to target neighboring cultures that DO have reliable harvests which is why you frequently see raiders emerging from “the barbaric frontier” to raid “civilization” that just so happens to occupy the space of a reliably fertile river valley. When thinking about including raiders in your story, consider what environmental forces have caused this most recent and previous raids, as well as consider how frequent raiding has shaped the targeted society. Frequent attacks by raiders is how we get walled palaces and warrior classes after all, so this shit is important. 
Slavers: Just like raiding, most cultures have engaged in slavery at one point or another, which is a matter I get into here. While raiders taking captives is not uncommon, actively attacking people for slaves is something that starts occurring once you have a built up slave market, necessitating the existence of at least one or more hierarchical societies that need more disposable workers than then their lower class is capable of providing. The roman legion and its constant campaigns was the apparatus by which the imperium fed its insatiable need for cheap slave labor. Subsistence raiders generally don’t take slaves en masse unless they know somewhere to sell them, because if you’re having trouble feeding your own people you’re not going to capture more ( this is what d&d gets wrong about monstrous humanoids most of the time). 
Tax Farmers: special mention to this underused classic, where gangs of toughs would bid to see who could collect money for government officials, and then proceed to ransack the realm looking to squeeze as much money out of the people as possible. This tends to happen in areas where the state apparatus is stretched too thin or is too lighthanded to have established enduring means of funding.  Tax farmers are a great one-two punch for campaigns where you want your party to be set up against a corrupt authority: our heroes defeat the marauding bandits and then oh-no, turns out they were not only sanctioned by the government but backed by an influential political figure who you’ve just punched in the coinpurse.  If tax farming exists it means the government is strong enough to need a yearly budget but not so established (at least in the local region) that it’s developed a reliably peaceful method of maintaining it.  
Robber Baron: Though the term is now synonymous with ruthless industrialists, it originated from the practice of shortmidned petty gentry (barons and knights and counts and the like) going out to extort and even rob THEIR OWN LANDS out of a desire for personal enrichment/boredom. Schemes can range from using their troops to shake down those who pass through their domain to outright murdering their own peasants for sport because you haven’t gotten to fight in a war for a while.  Just as any greed or violence minded noble can be a robber baron so it doesn’t take that much of a storytelling leap but I encourage you to channel all your landlord hate into this one. 
Rebels: More than just simple outlaws, rebels have a particular cause they’re a part of (just or otherwise) that puts them at odds with the reigning authority. They could violently support a disfavoured political faction, be acting out against a law they think is unjust, or hoping to break away from the authority entirely. Though attacks against those figures of authority are to be expected, it’s all too common for rebels to go onto praying on common folk for the sake of the cause.  To make a group of rebels worth having in your campaign pinpoint an issue that two groups of people with their own distinct interests could disagree on, and then ratchet up the tension. Rebels have to be able to beleive in a cause, so they have to have an argument that supports them.
Remnants: Like a hybrid of brigands, rebels, and taxfarmers, Remnants represent a previously legitimate system of authority that has since been replaced but not yet fully disappeared. This can happen either because the local authority has been replaced by something new (feudal nobles left out after a monarchy toppling revolution) or because it has faded entirely ( Colonial forces of an empire left to their own devices after the empire collapses). Remnants often sat at the top of social structures that had endured for generations and so still hold onto the ghost of power ( and the violence it can command) and the traditions that support it.  Think about big changes that have happened in your world of late, are the remnants looking to overturn it? Win new privilege for themselves? Go overlooked by their new overlords?
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uplatterme · 2 years ago
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Honorary Maid, Aether!
a/n: im not even gonna say anything, i just wanna fuck aether in a maid outfit. there’s plot i suppose but y’know. also ended up longer than it should have been…
cw: sub!aether/dom!amab!reader, top!reader/bottom!aether | aether wears a maid outfit, blowjob(chara!receiving), aether calls reader “master”, his eyes get covered for a bit, mirror sex, slight cockwarming
————
The traveler has been faced with different types of commissions. So he’s not really one to complain no matter its difficulty or strangeness. After all, he’s been often tasked to jump on mushrooms back in Sumeru and nothing can get weirder than that…he supposed. He’ll take anything, since this is what keeps his mora pouch full.
Unfortunately for him, today was looking a little scarce. 
“I’d like to apologize, but we have run out of commissions for the day. You may come find us tomorrow.”
Aether clicks his tongue. He needs to save up if he’s planning to travel to Fontaine anytime soon.
“None at all?” He asks again.
“I’d like to apologize, but we have run out of commissions for the day. You may come find us tomorrow.” Katheryne repeats word for word.
That’s troublesome. He’s a few mora short of what he usually earns.
He’s already done his share of bounties and requests for the week. He doubts that they’ll let him take another in fear of both exhausting him and taking opportunities from other adventurers.
And almost as if Katheryne could read his thoughts, she speaks up.
“There is a commission. Although, we have declined it for being too suspicious. Would you like to take a look, traveler?”
He nods, and she hands him a flier.
With one look, he understands why exactly it would be described that way. The details are vague and the mora that is being offered is far too much considering it’s only asking for housework.
“I’d advise against it but if you are going to take it, it is good to be careful.” She says.
That would be the most reasonable idea.
Aether, however, takes the flier and puts it away in his bag.
He did not think it would be that difficult. Perhaps the mora was reasonable after all.
The directions written on the flier weren't helpful at all. He’s been in circles, has been ambushed by three groups of hydro slimes and his clothes are a mess to look at.
It is his fault, he deems. He underestimated it, but who could blame him when he’s saved four nations from being ruined? A simple commission should have been easy. Exactly that, it should’ve.
Aether icks at how sticky he is. He tried to get off as much goo as he can, but some of it just spread to his skin and to his clothes.
He sighs, wondering if he should turn back.
That is, until he finally sees the mansion mentioned on the map.
It would be rude to show up in such a state, but going back empty-handed after going through so much trouble…
The money, Aether. The money. He thinks to himself.
He fixes his hair at least, making sure his braid is clean and neat. 
The mansion is big, perhaps even bigger than the Dawn Winery. He wonders what kind of person would live like this and this far away from others. He grits his teeth. His opinions when it comes to rich people aren’t that great, he has met his fair share of aristocrats without manners.
He knocks on the door, waiting patiently, although a bit anxious at how they’d react.
The door finally opens.
Oh.
He did not expect that.
What opens the door is clearly someone who gives off elegance. You wear a silky robe, a wine glass in your hand as you lay on the door frame.
Aether gets eyed up and down.
“May I help you? You may wash yourself if you want, I see you’ve been attacked by slimes.” You hum.
“I—Yes. Thank you.” He stutters out, not expecting such kindness. He follows you inside and then remembers what he’s here for. Right, no time to get distracted.
“I’m actually here…because of a commission you sent? I believe you need some help with housework.” 
He watches as your mouth gapes open. “Of course. I didn’t expect anyone to be coming truthfully, with how late it is already.”
Aether winces at the indirect insult. Maybe, if you actually drew the map better—
“I got a bit lost.” He says.
“Yeah, I can see that.” You say, alluding to the slime that remains on his body.
Aether flushes, not expecting that. He coughs it away.
“As I was saying, you could take a shower first. I only need the house to be lightly dusted and cleaned. If you have time to cook, that would be fine too.” You inform the traveler.
“That’s it?” He asks. Surely, there was something else. No way you were paying him such a high price for just sweeping and cooking.
“Oh. If you finish early, you can come by my office and see if you can help me out with things.”
Is this really it?
“You didn’t add a few extra zeroes for the reward right? It’s 100,000 for this?”
You stare at him confused. He concludes that he was right that you had sent the wrong price.
“That’s fine. I’ll still do it for 10,000.” Aether replies with a reassuring smile.
“No, no. I clearly wrote a million.”
Did he hear you right?
“I’m pretty sure I wrote a million when I sent the letter…” You mumble, trying to remember what you had written.
Meanwhile, Aether is stunned.
Even he wasn’t paid that much when getting compensation from the Qixing.
“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I’ll have to work now, if you’ll excuse me. Your uniform is in the bathroom closest to my office!” You rush out before he can even deny the high price of such a reward. 
Wait, what uniform?
Aether doesn’t see you for a while after that. He focuses on keeping every surface clean due to what he's being given. He sweeps and dusts what he can, only being limited by the locked doors you told him not to bother with. 
The blond does all that while wearing this ridiculously fluffy outfit.
He shouldn’t be this flustered. He’s seen Adelinde wearing these kinds of outfits.
It’s in no way revealing, the socks he’s wearing even reaching up to his thigh. Yet, he still stumbles whenever he passes by a mirror.
He takes a deep breath, flattens out his skirt, and checks his braid before knocking on your office’s door. You tell him to come in and you don’t even spare him a glance, too busy with whatever it was that you are currently working on.
You still wear the same silken robe and he smells the alcohol mixing in the air with each deep breath.
“I’m done with everything.” He says.
“That’s good. You may rest now, I’ll give you the payment after I’m done.” Is all you reply to him, eyes not leaving your desk.
Your cheeks are tinted a bit red due to the wine so he assumes you’re a bit tipsy. It doesn’t do well talking to drunk people, he knows that much thanks to a certain archon.
“M-May I help you with anything else?” He interrupts.
That’s when you finally stop and glance at him. He’s red, embarrassed that he sounded like a squeaking animal. You place your head on your hand, tapping the pencil as you gaze upon him.
A smile lingers on your face. “Just sit next to me, if you really want to do something.”
“Sit?”
“Yes, It would be nice to work next to a pretty maid, no?” 
Aether flinches at how you described him. He walks to the chair in front of your desk, staggering his steps.
He watches you work and realizes that you being this near is not good for his heart. He notices it from before, that you weren’t exactly wearing anything under the robe, showing more skin than necessary. He doesn’t want to look down—He’s not going to—but if he was to look under…
Archons.
“Is there something wrong, dear?” You ask.
Aether quickly shakes his head. “No! Not at all!”
He swallows the feeling of embarrassment. He shouldn’t have these kinds of thoughts, you are his employer, and he should treat you with proper respect.
Unfortunately, he can’t ignore the tired grunts you make, the way your robe seems to lower even more, and at this point, he’s not sure if he’s hallucinating.
The skirt is getting uncomfortable to wear, and a certain problem emerging. In fact, the whole outfit has started to do so. He fixes the collar, sweat starting to drip down despite the coolness of the temperature.
He places his palms on his cheeks, staring down, trying to calm himself.
He wonders how it would be if instead of the wine glass, you were to place that hand on his neck instead, to have you cup up his chin as you’re behind him with his back against your chest.
Aether continues daydreaming, not noticing that you’re calling up to him until he feels his wrist being taken away.
You pull him towards you and finds that you’re really warm.
“Traveler? Are you sick? Shall I send you home right now?” Your worry outstands him.
“N-No. I’m fine,” He glances down and tries to hide the growing tent with his apron. “I can wait. I’m good.”
You sigh. 
If Aether was standing right now, he’d be down on his knees.
“No, I refuse to have you here any longer. You are clearly not well, I’ll compensate for it.” 
Compensate? Does that mean you’ll be adding more to that ridiculously high payment?
He can’t have that.
“It is alright! I just uh—” What? Is he just supposed to admit that he was eyefucking you in his head?
He closes his mouth, scared that he’ll say something just as embarrassing.
“Don’t you have another task that I can do?” Aether asks.
“You can go home, I won’t take it against you—”
“Are you sure, Master—”
And Aether immediately wants to bury himself underneath. He didn’t mean to, he just didn’t want to go yet. Oh, when did he become this stupid? He’s always been rational when it comes to most things. 
He hears you chuckle softly, which then turns into a burst of hard laughter.
He’s embarrassed himself and now you’re laughing. You’re laughing so hard that you start tearing up.
“W-Why did the Adventurer’s Guild send me such an adorable maid?” You say.
Aether thinks he’s far from adorable. In fact, he’d consider himself to be scary. He’s defeated three harbingers, fought a dragon, and gone through multiple battles. He is not…adorable. Not in the least.
He can’t find it in himself to argue with you.
“What’s wrong, baby? Don’t want Master to send you out?”
“I—You’re mocking my words! It just slipped out! I have a friend and I also call him by that title sometimes!” He frustratingly yells. Right, because of Diluc, that’s it.
“So you’re saying you…just have a habit of calling people your Master?”
Aether tries to stammer out a response. “W-Would you stop with all the teasing?”
“Oh, I’m the one teasing? Not the one who’s been so quiet as a mouse his whole stay, but all of the sudden drools as I innocently do my work?”
“You noticed…?”
“Of course, I noticed. You aren’t exactly sneaky when you stare at me as if you can see through my robe.”
Aether covers his face and crouches on his knees. Yes, he won’t argue that he does want your attention. However, he didn’t expect to get everything thrown at him all at the same time.
“Don’t worry, I think it’s cute.” You reassure him, helping him stand up.
“Sorry…I know you employed me for cleaning and all I’ve been doing is bothering you with your work—and you’re paying me too much already, I’ll just leave—”
Ah, Aether did not expect that.
He did not expect to be cut off from his mumbling with a kiss. Your lips were calming, soft and gentle. He feels you try to pull away.
He doesn’t want you to.
He pulls you closer to him, compared to you, he’s messy and in need. In need of your touch, in need of your attention. It’s a bit fast, he thinks. He’s only met you today, after all. 
Aether doesn’t mind.
You separate from him, out of breath. “You know I’ll be holding that against you, right?”
“Yes…and no compensation needed. Please.” He stresses out. He doesn’t want this to come off as you are paying for his body. He wants this, it’s dizzying but relaxing. He’s been needing this kind of break, especially as of recently.
“Alright.”
It’s a shame that his black stockings are ripped this much, he thought they were rather cute. The desk is a bit uncomfortable on his back but he’s too distracted by your mouth on his cock, mouth gasping out pleasantly as you hold him still.
“S-Shit—” He curses out.
You apparently take that as a sign to go even deeper and multitask with your hands at the other end of his cock. You grumble something incoherent, and the vibrations send pulses to his nerves.
“W-What?” He asks, and then regrets it since you answer him again with him still inside your mouth. He tilts his head back, squirming on the hard desk.
You remove your mouth before he can even climax, just edging him to the point of him shuddering. His legs are so sticky, he can’t see it due to the skirt, but he feels it, the way his thighs slide against each other.
“Such pretty noises…I might just get tempted to keep you here if you keep doing that.” You state.
“I can’t.” He breathes out.
“Really? You’re sure I can’t convince you?” 
“You can try.” Aether smirks.
You sneer at his confidence.
“Come here.” You direct.
“Stand?”
“Mhm, I’m sure laying like that can’t be good for you. Unless, of course. You already can’t stand up?”
Aether rolls his eyes at you. His legs shake with each step but he manages to position himself well, his back against your chest. 
He hears the sound of the robe hitting the ground and he’s tempted to see. No, he wants to see. 
He turns his head but his eyes are covered with your hand.
“Ah, no looking. Not yet.”
He can feel his entrance being stretched out, your fingers clearly taking their time. His heart thumps as his vision remains in darkness. Noises of satisfaction sounded from his throat.
He’s starting to get impatient with it, if he’s being honest. He remains still, however, he trusts that you know whatever’s best for him.
You hum and the tone of your voice seems satisfied.
After a few seconds of emptiness and silence, he finally takes you in. The urge to bend down right there was uncontrollable, but you hold his shoulders up. He’s this close to having a misstep and falling down.
His legs quiver, struggling to stand on their own. 
You push further in and a silent cry comes out of him. He hopes that’s the last of it.
It isn’t, but he doesn’t have to know that.
God, he feels so full. He curses your hand, he wants to see it. See how filled he is, see how your length bulges from his stomach.
“P-Please, move your hand.”
“In a bit, dear.”
It doesn’t take much for his body to succumb with a few thrusts. Each breath seems as if you’re somehow getting even deeper. He seethes at the pleasure, close to spilling.
“Hngh—” Aether grunts out.
It’s intoxicating how you hold him by his waist, rubbing his stomach. And with each pump to his body, his mouth releases a satisfied sound.
He swears in his head. Close! He’s so close!
He taps your hand on his eyes repeatedly, wanting you to take it off now. But you ignore it, pounding deeper instead as a response.
His body shrivels, and the next thing he knows, he’s screaming because of how good it is.
He’s blinded by the light when you finally allow him to see, his vision taking a while to adjust. The first thing he sees is how much he spills on the floor and how there’s still some coming out, dripping on his thighs.
“Would you look at that? My maid, creating a mess. Aren’t you supposed to be doing the opposite?”
He tries to turn around and almost slips, if not for your arms.
“Want to see, my baby?”
“Yes.” He answers.
Right after he says that, he feels himself getting lifted up, you still inside of him. A soft moan quickly escapes his lips. 
“W-Wait!” He complains, confused at what you’re doing.
That’s when he notices the mirror across the room. “No, you’re not actually thinking of—ah!”
You walk towards it all the while his legs are lifted and spread out. The movement has him bouncing on your cock despite still being sensitive from his first orgasm. It’s only a few steps. He can count how many you took with his fingers.
So, why is it that his body is responding too well to the point that he gets hard again?
“You alright there?” You ask him, his head still overwhelmed that he can’t hear you.
You blow on his ear and he looks at you annoyed.
“Why don’t you look in front of you before you pout at me?”
He stares at himself and looks away, having trouble maintaining eye contact with his own. The scene is so…passionate.
The way his skirt is lifted up to show his waist, his ripped stocking, and his flushed face. All the while you’re carrying him so lightly, your cock only halfway inside of him, wet from all the juices he’s leaking out.
Halfway? He questions himself. There’s no way you weren’t fully inside him earlier, right?
“What are you thinking?” You ask.
“N-Nothing!”
“Is that so?”
He whines at how you push further in, stretching his walls out fully. It’s way too big for him and he has no idea how he’s being able to take you so well. He watches the reflection as much as he could, despite his vision being blurry at most.
His body writhes at each slight movement that he makes, making him be reminded of the fact that he’s still being lifted up. He wants to say something, to speak about how you’re so mean to him for placing him in this position that you know will ruin him and his vocal cords. Yet, he doesn’t, knowing that’ll push you even further.
He’s so drunk and breathless, which doesn’t make sense considering you’re the one who’s been drinking the whole day.
You slowly pull yourself out to make space and Aether sobs. He sobs at how his walls clench onto you as if it depended on it, he sobs at how much pleasure this is giving him than what he expected.
He’s scared of what might happen after this. Of how his body will be affected by how much affection you’re giving it.
And then you thrust in. 
A loud whimper breaks out of him, and as the noises of skin slapping together get louder, so does he. 
Aether sings out pleas and how much you’re ruining his body, that he’ll never be able to take anybody else after this.
“You shouldn’t even be considering that, to begin with. You’re mine now, yes?”
And he hastily nods. Yours, of course.
He struggles to breathe, not knowing where to focus on when you’re pounding ruthlessly into him. His body feels so heavy and so brittle at the same time, You’re—
Aether’s thoughts get interrupted when you empty inside of him, filling him up. Warm, you’re so warm. 
He throws his head back as he reaches his second climax, everything draining out of him.
“Hah—give me—a sec…” He stutters out.
“Of course, should I pull out?”
“No, keep…keep it in.”
It took a while for Aether to recover. You suggested that you two should sit down but he immediately shuts that off once he remembered that warranted more movement. So, he stays there slightly lifted up, bearing the slight twitches of your cock.
You waited patiently, having a sight to look at just like this wasn’t exactly a complaint of yours.
He grabs your arms, lowering himself to the ground.
His legs aren’t exactly what you would call stable.
He moves on his own, pushing his body in and out. It’s slow, but it’s also gratifying at the same time. Some of your cum slips out with each push, being used as lubrication by your maid.
“You’re doing so well, keep it up.” 
“‘Love your cock.” He says.
“Hmm…I see that. Need some help?”
He nods embarrassingly. 
You position him to face you instead, making it a lot easier for him to work his way through.
It’s adorable how he hard he tries, his fingers are barely grabbing themselves onto you, in fact, you’re the one that’s the cause of Aether being to at least be on his feet.
He cries out loud as he hits that sweet spot of his, tongue lolling out from the pleasure. He’s tight and the movement is riling up the fire inside of you to use his body to your own accord. You fight against it, admiring at how much he’s trying to get that satisfaction without overwhelming himself from being too sensitive.
“That’s right, baby. Keep going. You’re so close aren’t you?”
“Mhm.”
He shudders at it, his core boiling to its brim. 
“Please don’t let me fall.”
“I would never.” You promise.
Aether goes at a quicker pace, from what strength he has still, and lets his lower half do all the work until he spills out again, breathless but finally satisfied.
Aether knocks on the door again, waiting for you to open it.
As usual, you carry a glass of alcohol in your hand. Although more clothed, ever since he got possessive that someone else might see you like this.
You smile, and he braces for the teasing.
“My, at this point I really have to ask. Do you enjoy getting ambushed by hydro slimes or is your memory that bad?”
Aether rolls his eyes. He needs to persuade you from having a proper path made to get here. “I need a shower.”
“Ah, I’ve set up a bath.” You offered.
“And I assume you’re coming with?” The blond snickers.
“Of course, I am. Like you even have to ask.”
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lunajay33 · 4 months ago
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Am I Good Enough
🩸🖤♟️🍷
Summary: You were on a solo trip to Italy taking a tour of an old castle when everything changes, but will this random guy accept you for who’s and what you are?
Pairing: Alec Volturi x human f!reader
•Masterlist•
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Taking a trip to Italy was a last minute decision, firstly needing a break from my boring life and for some reason Italy always just called to me, like there was something waiting there for me
After a long tire some flight I finally landed in Italy, stepping out into the hot heat, waving down a taxi before anyone else could cut infront of me, only traveling with my backpack for easy travel, I told the driver to take me to Volterra, only an hour drive from the airport, seeing pictures of it on a guide and thought it would be a beautiful start to my trip
Finally we arrived in volterra, I paid and now standing infront of this beautiful castle, the town was fully stone built, it was beautiful unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, as I was walking down the street I got stopped by a woman, her hair luscious, he skin was flawless, her eyes so beautiful even though they must be contacts since they were such a rich red, her smile enticing
“Hi there you seem like a girl who’d love a good tour and I just so happen to be showing the castle right now for free! Does that interest you at all?” Her voice was so melodic like she was a siren I was pulled in nodding immediately watching as her smile grew, I followed her to the castle like a puppy meeting up with a group of other tourists
She led us through the castle not stopping to tell us about anything interesting we passed, finally we got to a set of big wooden door that looked like they weighed a ton but she pushed them open with ease, there beyond the doors was a huge room, marble and tile covered every inch, three thrones sat on the pedestal further back in the room, where three men sat seemingly looming over us all, others stood around the room watching us like they were ready to pounce, the doors behind us slammed soon hearing the first scream of many, it was a blood bath as the people dressed in black went from person to person until I was the only one standing
“It seems we missed one brothers and sisters”
“I’ve got her” a tall man said as he started right for me before he was stopped by the older man that sat on the throne
“WAIT” his voice boomed through the chamber, everyone stopping to look at him
He got up off the throne seemingly weak as he glided over to me
“Dear child it seems someone here has been waiting for you for a long long time” he smiled as he turned to a guy who was the most ethereal beautiful person I’ve ever seen, everything about him lured me in, he eyed me the same way and in an instant he was infront of me
“My Lord are you sure about this, she is my mate?”
“Yes child she is your other half”
“But she is human, this can’t be”
“It was meant to be, don’t over think this, it’s the best gift the universe could give you”
“Come we must talk” he said as he led me back out through the doors, silently walking through the vast halls until we finally made it to a huge room decorated in black and ruby red, books covering the walls
“Sit” he demanded as he gestured to the bed
“You haven’t said a word this whole time you must be in shock” he said sitting opposite of me on the bed
“No……surprisingly I’m the calmest I’ve ever been, but I still don’t know what’s going on”
“I must admit you are cute, most beautiful human I’ve ever seen” his words made the blood rush to my cheeks making him smile
“I’d say the same for you but I don’t quite think you’re human….right?”
“You’d be right my rose, we are vampires some much older than others but we rule over the vampiric world, we enforce the laws so the humans don’t become suspicious about our kind”
“Then why are you telling me, why didn’t you just kill me like everyone else in the room”
“Some of us vampires have special powers, the one that talked to you was Marcus one of our lords, he can sense the bond of those who are mated to each other, he could sense that we are meant to be with one another” my heart was racing fast, I was sure he could hear it
“Mates? That’s…..are you sure I mean I’m just a human am I good enough for you?” His eyes softened for the first time
“We will figure this out this isn’t the first time a vampire has been mated to a human, I just got lucky enough to get such a diamond”
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It’s been a month now and it’s been well……amazing I didn’t get a lot of alone time with Alec seeing he had a lot of guard duty but when he’d wake me at night so I could curl up to him as he held me, sometimes he’d leave cute notes in the books I’d be reading that always got my heart beating, sometimes leaving red roses on the table for me whenever he had to work late, he made me feel like a goddess, giving me a love I’ve never thought I’d feel before…….well until today
Walking into the library to grab another book hoping to find something more intriguing than the books Alec had collected over the years
Looking on the second balcony I stopped when I heard voices on the main level, Alec always warned me of some other vampires, newer to the Volturi that may not have a reign on their blood thirst as the older vamps, as their voices got louder I recognized them as Jane and Demetri
“You seem more cruel than usual Jane, something the matter?” Demetri asked, I stood completely still as I listened to the conversation
“Alec won’t stop going on and on about that….that rat, complete filth of a human, I mean what fates put them together, she’s just a lowly human, I could kill her in a second and her life would mean nothing”
“Jane don’t be so harsh have you even spoken to her, she’s quite the girl, she’s perfect for Alec”
“No human is good enough for Alec” she scoffed before she stormed out, the doors slamming behind her, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding
My heart felt like a ton of bricks, maybe I wasn’t enough for Alec I mean it’s been a month and we haven’t moved past just holding each other in bed, or a little pec on the check, maybe I’m over thinking everything but there still that nagging at the back of my mind that Jane might be right I mean she’s his twin she knows him best
I ditched my journey to get a new book and headed back to Alec’s and I’s room hoping to just clear my head and try and forget about this gut wrenching feeling
I threw myself down on the bed when a voice shocked me out of my fleeting moment of peace
“What seems to trouble you amore?” I shot up in the bed looking across the room to where the voice came from seeing Alec sat on the couch looking beautiful as ever
“Oh umm it’s nothing just tired” in a flash he was kneeled infront of me at the side of the bed, his hands holding mine
“Amore you know you can’t lie to me, I hear your lovely heart race everytime, now tell me”
“I just…..I don’t know, I feel sometimes that I’m not everything you need we haven’t even kissed yet and i know the others think this too”
“My love, you are everything I have waited for, you calm me down when I feel my anger rise, you thaw my cold dead heart, and for the other I haven’t kissed you yet because I wanted to take this slow for you, I’m quite into courting if you haven’t noticed, this is special so I’m enjoying my time with every little moment” he smiled running his thumb over my hand soothingly
“I….I love you Alec, and I know I can have my doubts sometimes but I really do, you’ve made me feel more loved than I ever have before” I said placing my hand on his cold cheek
“I love you to my angel, and I want you to never worry about my I devoted love for you, nothing with ever change than no matter if your human or a vampire, I’m yours till the end of time”
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More alec oneshots are on their way
Story inspired by @kimi240302 Alec story go check it out!!
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lady-ashfade · 1 year ago
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Golden Dove.
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—£ Aemond Targaryen x Male!Reader.
—£ The reader in this is a prostitutes at one of the more richer parts of kingslanding. He works with the people only willingly to pay his high wages. And the prince is more then willing.
—£ Warnings: Readers work, paying for services, yandere behavior, short stories, slightly suggestive and sexual, themes of nsfw but nothing to bad.
Taglist: @watercolorskyy
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Aemond first saw you when he went looking for his brother, who happened to be visiting a girl who worked with you. You being very desirable you had more freedom around the place. Always wearing the finest silk and jewelry, you almost ran the place with the money you brought in. They called you The Golden Dove. Everyone who worked there was called doves but you were the most desirable, making you a prize.
They had been instructed by Aegon to never say his name to those who come looking which ended badly when the One Eyed Prince came around. Like the man he is, he caused a scene.
“I’d appreciate it if you do not yell at our little doves,” they all turned to you in your golden silk outfit showing off your chest, the soft skin with a necklace hanging down. “If you need help all you have do is ask.” The girls ran over to you and hide behind you. You always took care of them.
“Run along, you have work to do.” You brushed the tears off the girl who had been crying. Once they ran off you sighed and swayed your way over to the man. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Clasping your hands together with a smile.
His eye trailed along your body and the toned but soft chest, your handsome face and seductive eyes and voice drew him in. “My brother is here, we need him back.”
“Hmm, a shame. Might have had a bit of fun.” You walked passed him with a hum and a smirk.
You took him to Aegon who was passed out on the bed like he normally was with a girl playing with his hair. He was too far gone to react to being moved and clothed.
“If you ever need a escape,” Aemond tensed when you leaned forward and closer to his ear, “You could afford my price.” And with that you left him to the cold night with his drunken brother.
Aemond finds himself lonely and thinking of you at points in the days. The way your eyes followed him, the way your clothes moved with you, the way your breath felt when you leaned close to him. You were the most handsome man he had met, and devilish to invade his mind like a plague.
Of course he caved and visited you in the middle of the night when you were sleeping. A knock at your door from one of the girls to tell you that you had been bought for a while was a surprise since you never had unplanned night visits. There was only one person who could be visiting you for your boss to take the call. Prince Aemond.
After that night he was always visiting you. He would feel a growing anger when he was not able to visit you. He was also jealous of the men and women who could be seeing you at the same time.
The thing about Aemonds feeling is that they grew, so much he wants to pay to have you by his side in the castle.
You are sent gifts of robes, cheeses and meats, anything that riches can buy. He loves to send jewelry and see you wearing them when he comes to visit you.
He cares not for the rumor of him seeing a man in the streets for they could just simply be a rumor. But if anyone were to find out he would never truly care and he’d have them tortured for saying such things.
You spend time with many people other then aemond but he takes more then your body but your heart and mind. He was not business anymore but a passion comfort to be had. He treats you as a highborn but also as his to be owned. Saying he lets you continue to work when he could take you to the castle only to be his.
“You are handsome, the most divine face I have seen.” He caressed your cheek, “You should be lucky I don’t lock you away my darling boy.”
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marlynnofmany · 9 months ago
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Catching Things in Zero-G
“Reach over the border,” Captain Sunlight directed the Frillian twins. “Make sure they’re touching the floor when they cross into gravity.”
I watched from well out of the way as Blip and Blop nodded, holding muscular arms out for the oncoming guests. No one here was new to gravity fluctuations, but that didn’t mean they were fun.
The first person to cross from the damaged ship to ours was a bright red Heatseeker whose name I’d forgotten. He stumbled a bit on landing, grateful for the assistance. Blip and Blop released his hands when he was stable, looking like parents helping their lizardy toddler off a swing set.
Hard on his heels was Bopburt, the big gray Strongarm whose name I did remember (along with his extreme and hilarious dislike for pizza, from when I’d talked him into trying it that one time). I’d worked briefly on that ship before getting a more long-term position on this one. Nobody had changed since then. Bopburt was still a bigger octopus alien than the Strongarms on our ship. He was surprisingly talented at navigating in zero-g, though.
“No need,” he said, waving a tentacle at the waiting hands. He launched off the wall and landed with a splat just on this side of the seam between airlocks. “Thanks, though. They’ll want help with the cargo. Ah, here we go.”
He tentacle-walked over to stand near me as several other crewmates appeared at the hatch with an expensive-looking shipping crate. I couldn’t tell how heavy the thing was about to be, but it was a cube about the size of the bedside table in my quarters, and it shimmered with pearlescence. Even the label on the top was embossed in gold, matching the seam around the edges. Four different crewmates worked together to guide it oh-so-gently toward our ship.
“What’s in it?” I asked Bopburt. “Do you know?”
He made a rude noise. “Clients wouldn’t say. Rich jerks.”
Captain Sunlight watched with concern. “Is it heavy? Should we get a hoversled?”
“No, just don’t drop it.”
“Right.”
There were far too many people involved already, so we just watched as the whole procession made their way awkwardly through the airlock. Captain Kamm showed up during all this, along with the rest of their crew waiting to cross over. She and Captain Sunlight started a conversation over everyone else’s heads.
It was getting crowded. I moved back toward the hallway, where a few of my own crewmates had gathered to greet the guests. It’d been a while since we’d seen our sister ship, and while a damaged gravity generator wasn’t the best of circumstances, it was still nice to visit.
A furry shape trotted past my ankle. I scooped up the cat before she could get in the way. “Hang on there, Telly. You don’t want to get stepped on. I know it all smells new and interesting.”
Telly ignored me, watching the proceedings with great interest. Her mismatched eyes were wide, and she didn’t react when I ruffled her two-toned fur. This was more focus than new arrivals usually got. She hadn’t run out the airlock yet, but there’s always a first. I kept a close eye on her.
“What kind of animal is that?” Bopburt asked, looking up at the tense shape in my arms.
“A cat,” I said. “Humans keep them for companionship and…”
Telly was chattering — that distinct “I see prey” noise.
I turned toward the hall, but too late. She launched off with a kick to my ribs and flashed toward the gravity barrier.
“Telly, no!” I exclaimed, like that had stopped any cat ever.
Some crewmates looked up at me while others jumped aside with startled noises. Blip nearly caught her, which was pretty impressive honestly, but Telly jumped right past and into the other ship. She immediately careened toward the far wall, meowing and clawing at the air.
“Sorry, I’ll get her!” I dodged through the crowd. “I don’t know what she’s going after.” I ignored the conversation behind me and dove into the zero-g. It was just as disorienting as it always was, but I was heading in the right direction.
I caught up to Telly in midair where she’d bounced off the wall and been unable to catch anything with her claws. Those claws immediately tore into my sleeves, leaving more than one scratch that would probably need to get patched up, but I was busy offering comforting noises as I focused on holding her close with my arms while getting my feet into position to hit the wall.
I landed gently, making sure to take it slow before pushing back off, and in that half-breath pause, I saw something skitter past. “Ah!”
“What is it?” called Captain Sunlight.
“Something moved!” said, trying to look for it while shuffling the cat to get an arm free, and also searching for a handhold before I drifted away from the wall. I found a little hook that had probably held decorations once, and that was good enough. I clutched it tight. Telly tried to scramble onto my shoulder. I did my best to hold her in place. The creature had disappeared.
But Telly was chattering again, looking at the ceiling.
Somebody shouted about wire-eating pests. More people were coming back over the gravity barrier, a jumble of motion and urgent conversation about which tools had the best shot at catching something so fast.
“That’s why the gravity’s out! I knew it wouldn’t fail suddenly!”
“Do gravity wands work in zero-g?”
“Better to use a stun gun. Just nobody shoot anyone else.”
“What about that net in the cargo hold? We could—”
I tuned it all out when I spotted the thing Telly was chattering at. It was a flat little silvery beastie with lots of tiny legs and segmented plates on its back, every bit the kind of thing I could see wreaking havoc in the guts of a spaceship. It clung to the ceiling with stillness that could break into astonishing speed in an eyeblink.
The wall below it had pipes sticking out, curving into the living space in the type of ship design that was a little unsightly but immensely useful right now.
With one hand firmly holding Telly against my shoulder and the other on the hook, I turned in the zero-g until I could stick a foot through the loop of pipes. Then I used both hands to grab Telly, holding her out in front of me as I did a sit-up toward the ceiling. “Get it, girl!”
Telly didn’t disappoint. The thing saw her coming and tried to dash away, but she twisted in my grasp to launch off my wrist in a way that was incredibly painful but worth it. She snatched it off the ceiling and brought it to her mouth with a crunch of exoskeleton that I could hear from there.
Then she dropped it, shaking her head in comical disgust as the crowd cheered. Somebody caught it easily. I caught Telly before she could fully realize she was drifting again. After that, it was just a matter of making my way back to gravity without use of my arms. I ended up crowd-surfing, which wasn’t my plan at all, but everyone was appreciative and eager to help.
When I got my feet back under me, the first thing I did was find Eggskin the medic. “Was that safe for her to bite? She doesn’t usually react like that.” Telly wasn’t trying to jump free, busy licking a paw with vigor.
“Yes, I remember it from her original bio scans,” Eggskin told me. “Definitely on the safe list. These are a known pest with a strong flavor. They’re actually a sought-after delicacy in some circles.”
Eggskin was also the cook, which had seemed strange when I first joined the crew, but it made perfect sense these days.
“Oh good,” I said. “All right, kitty, great job. I’ll get you some treats to take the taste out of your mouth, okay?”
Captain Kamm appeared at my elbow, standing on the tips of her tentacles to get a good look at Telly. “Does your little predator like fish?”
“She does!” I said.
“Then we will be happy to reward her with some.” She waved a tentacle at a maroon-and-teal Frillian who was carrying a mesh bag of various things. “It’s the least we can do after she caught the source of our woes. Thank all the stars that it’s a small one, not old enough to spawn more.”
“Hey captain!” someone yelled. “There’s a gap in the seam of that expensive crate! And the bio-scanner shows traces of droppings!”
“More excellent news,” Captain Kamm said with an angry smile.
Captain Sunlight asked, “That crate has a scanner block, doesn’t it? No way to scan for hitchhikers.”
“Oh yes it does,” Captain Kamm confirmed. “How kind of that pest to leave its droppings by the hole where we can detect and record them.”
“They signed a waiver, right?”
“Oh yes.”
When I realized that the rich jerks had set themselves up for paying to repair the gravity generator that their negligence had damaged, I broke into a grin as well. “Such great news!”
Telly moved again, making me tighten my grip instinctively, but it was just to get at the tray of fish chunks that the Frillian was holding out. I took the tray and held it for Telly to eat from. She made some adorable happy noises.
“So you were about to say,” Bopburt said, “That humans keep these creatures for companionship and, and I think I’ve figured out the other thing.”
“Yup,” I agreed. “Valuable predator services.”
“You’re bleeding a bit there.”
“Ah, it’s not the first time. Worth it.”
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!
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dreamerinthemoonlight · 4 months ago
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Notice Me Part Two (Diluc, Albedo)
My sister suggested these and now that it’s cool enough to think, I figured I’d do them.
CW: Fluff
Diluc x Fem!reader, Albedo x fem!reader
Requests are OPEN
Diluc
Surprisingly, Diluc is actually pretty good
He does what Ayato did and starts with flowers from a secret admirer
Every few days a bouquet of flowers ends up at the Adventurers Guild with an anonymous note addressed to you
Sometimes they are your favorite flowers other times they seem to be random
You get teased about this some, though after a few sharp looks and a comment about how “you don’t see them getting any flowers” quickly quiets your co workers
Of course, even after the teasing stops, you and the other girls do discuss who might be sending them to you
One of your friends points out that on the “random flower” days the flowers usually use the language of flowers to say something in addition to the notes. When the note says “good luck” the flowers might say “be in good health” or “Thinking of you”
Your heart totally skips a step when your friend said that
This goes on for a while. More and more you take more domestic commissions in an attempt to figure out who might be sending you the flowers
Eventually, Diluc--having heard that the flowers we more than well received-- decides to take a few days off
He goes to the adventurer’s guild, ostensibly to drop off a commission himself (literally all of his employees mentally called bullshit)
When he came to you personally, things clicked. Expensive flowers+knowledge of something fancy like the language of flowers=rich boy and Diluc certainly fits the “rich” label. It’s not like you were complaining. You would have thought of him earlier, but the guy seems to be completely indifferent to romance. “Married to work” some of your friends might say
Once you figure this out you start putting yourself in a position to take commissions for the Dawn Winery and the Angel’s Share
Once you even accepted Kaeya’s invitation to go drinking with him and Rosaria (Diluc’s attentions hadn’t escaped his notice) in hopes that he would be at the Angel’s Share
He was not. And he was mildly irritated when Charles told him that “the future Lady of the Dawn Winery” was there (Charles knows what’s up, hehe), though impressed that you kept Kaeya and Rosaria’s drinking to a minimum
The next time he had free time, Diluc stopped at Flora’s and personally ordered an extra large bouquet of your favorite flowers and went to ask you out
He just about spontaneously combusted when you kissed his cheek as an answer
 Albedo 
If Diluc is surprisingly good at this thing, Albedo is unsurprisingly bad
His first tactic is to commission your help long term
Which might have worked except every now and then he does stuff like that. The guild is used to “go fer” commissions from the alchemist
Albedo realized this a few days into the commission, when you showed no signs of acknowledging the attention. At first he read it as a rejection before realizing that this isn’t unheard of behavior for him and that he needs to augment it with something more obvious
Much to his delight, the failed attempt at showing you his affection allows him to study you in detail without ending up like the forever disliked Albert (he frequently feels sympathy for Barbara and the other nuns who constantly have to deal with his “affections”)
Over the next week or two he figures out your favorite food, flowers, and some other mundane tidbits that might prove useful in the future
It isn’t long, however, before he starts to think that maybe the best idea isn’t subtlety. He’s not good enough with people to successfully pull off the subtle wooing that some others might be able to
And so he’s faced with an unfamiliar feeling. Nervousness. Just the thought of going up and asking you to date him fills his stomach with butterflies.
Of course, this doesn’t actually stop him. The day you leave to go back to Mondstadt he pulls you aside
When he asks you giggle, “so that’s what this was about. I did think it was a little odd that you wanted company for this long” before happily agreeing to date him
You leave and he comes face to face with his next objective: planning a date
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prettypumpum · 28 days ago
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Title: Crossed Dimensions I Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence, depression, anxiety
Summary: You were living an ordinary life until the day a portal throws you into the Marvel universe. Trapped between an unbearable Deadpool and a Wolverine as troubling as he is charming, you discover powers you didn't know you had and an unknown past with certain heroes. As your anxiety grows in the face of this new reality, will you be able to find your place and perhaps become the hero they need?
Word count: 1,136
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"I have good news and great news," Wade began when I returned from the bar bathroom where our pilot was supposed to meet us. "Enrique transferred the money, so for now, we're rich. And drumroll," he said, gesturing for me to tap on my thighs, "Elis is delayed, so we're stuck here until tomorrow morning," added the mercenary cheerfully.
"You think that's good news?" Logan asked, ordering another drink. We’d been here for three hours, and at this rate, the bonus would be gone.
"Are you in a rush to see him again? Need to hear more about that seafood restaurant in Barbados?" I asked Logan, who grimaced, remembering just how annoying our pilot could be.
Our conversation was interrupted by Wade's phone. He showed us the screen: it was Al. She’d be pleased; Enrique had even given us a little something extra in kind.
"So, tell me, how’s my favorite girl?" Wade asked, answering the call. "I meant the dog, you old fossil! She’s saying sweet things about you," he said, pressing the phone to his chest and stepping outside, leaving Logan and me alone.
"How’s your injury?" he asked me.
"It’s completely gone."
He nodded and went back to drinking. I nervously played with my glass; it was my sixth mojito, and I still didn’t feel anything. Now and then, I’d glance at the man beside me. He had never told us what had happened to him or why he was the way he was. He seemed so sad and angry. I’d started to think that this new universe was a second chance for him, too.
"Thanks for helping me with my powers; you must’ve been a great teacher," I said with a small smile, to which he only responded with a grunt. "What did you teach?" I asked, trying to fill the silence that was becoming awkward. We were the only customers in this dingy bar. I’d never been the most social person, but I needed to talk, and Logan was the only one who could understand since he was in the same situation as me, especially with Laura.
"We don’t have to do this," he said, setting down his empty glass and ordering another. It was four in the afternoon, and I’d already lost count of what he’d drunk. I nodded, hoping Wade would come back soon. "I taught history," he finally said after a long silence.
"I used to be a dancer." I wanted to slap myself; I didn’t know why I’d said that—it was like my mouth had a mind of its own. "Well, not in the end… I worked in a bookstore in Brooklyn."
"You could ask Wade’s friend to find you a job."
"I wasn’t that kind of dancer; I performed in Broadway shows," I said with a smile. "I ran into your Variant from my universe during one of my auditions… well, I saw him walking from far away and from behind, but that counts."
"What the hell was he doing at a Broadway audition?"
"He had the lead role in one of the shows."
At least it made him laugh. It was nice to see him in a good mood, even though I quite liked his grumpy expression.
"No kidding!" he said, disgusted, taking another swig of his beer. "If anyone had ever told me I’d end up drinking in a bar with Dreamwalker," he said, more to himself than to me.
"What was I like in your universe?" I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to hear the answer.
"You were a real pain in the ass," he replied before taking a sip of his beer. "But you weren’t the worst."
I nodded, unsure of what to say. I’d been taken by the TVA because I was an anomaly; I’d started to develop powers in a world where that wasn’t supposed to happen. And after meeting Wade, he’d explained who I was while we looked for a Wolverine.
"For what it’s worth, I’m sorry," I said awkwardly.
"You’re not her," he said. "No, you’re definitely not her," he muttered, giving me a look full of meaning.
I wasn’t sure if it was because he’d nearly drunk the bar’s entire supply or if I was imagining things because of the stress and fatigue. But I willingly joined him in this little game.
"Is that right?" I asked, unsure where I found the courage to keep this conversation going as I kept my gaze locked on the mutant’s. His beautiful brown eyes were growing darker and darker.
Our noses were almost touching, and I could feel his breath, tinged with beer and whiskey. His gaze never left mine; it was so dark, almost animalistic. I didn’t know if he was going to bite me or kiss me. The scariest part was that I didn’t know which I’d prefer.
*What am I doing?* My reason was screaming at me not to play with fire, but my heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst. I knew this wasn’t a good idea, that Logan wasn’t the kind of man you approached without leaving a piece of yourself behind. And yet, I was here, unable to pull away. I felt like Little Red Riding Hood, knowingly choosing to play with the wolf, fully aware of what that meant.
"Everything’s fine!" Wade yelled as he reentered the bar, snapping both of us out of that suspended moment. Logan and I quickly pulled away from each other; I turned my attention to my drink, trying to hide my flushed face, and calm my heart, which was about to leap out of my chest. Reality had just jolted me out of that daydream in a brutal and familiar way—of course, nothing was going to happen, not between Logan and me. As if someone like him would actually let himself go for someone like me. I lowered my gaze, hoping Wade wouldn’t notice my flushed cheeks, trying to ignore the painful void left by that stolen moment.
"Did I interrupt something?" Wade asked, curious. I shook my head, staring at the little umbrella in my glass while Logan stayed turned away, still drinking. "Are you sure?" he continued.
"How’s everything at home?" I asked to change the subject. "She got in a car accident," Wade replied calmly.
I still couldn’t understand how a blind old lady addicted to cocaine had a driver’s license.
"Oh my God, is she okay?" I asked, concerned for the old lady.
"She’s in the hospital with a bunch of fractures and a concussion," Wade replied calmly. "But my little Mary Poppins is fine; she’s with Vanessa. Aren't they just adorable together?" he asked in a schoolgirl’s voice, showing me a selfie where Vanessa was holding Dogpool, with Al in the background, clearly in pain.
"Adorable," I replied.
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ladyloveandjustice · 2 months ago
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Summer 2024 Anime Overview: DEAD DEAD DEMONS DEDEDEDE DESTRUCTION
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A giant mothership is hovering over Tokyo. The aliens haven’t done anything or even made themselves known yet, but Japan and America are already trying to blow that UFO up, and show off who has the best weapons, causing many civilian casualties along the way. While all this happens, two girls are just casually living their lives. But are they as normal as they appear?
One thing I want to say is if you watch this anime and care about being intensely spoiled, do not watch "episode 0" until you've finished episode 16. It actually slots chronologically between episode 16 and 17, and that's where the episode took place in the manga, so I have no idea why they did that. Fortunately I had someone to warn me about that, so I will be that someone for you.
Dead Dead Demons DeDeDeDe Destruction or De x 8 as I will be calling it, can be really tough show to watch—not because it’s bad, it’s very good, but because of how depressing and visceral it is at times, and how devastatingly accurate it is to the shitshow of our world. This tends to be balanced a bit by the touching friendships (and possibly? More?) of the very likeable cast of teenagers…but you also feel a huge sense of dread about their safety as things ramp up and their stories deepen.
The anime goes hard on criticizing the military industrial complex, Japan’s government, America’s government, xenophobia, treatment of immigrants, rich people, and conspiracy theorists. All things I also hate, so that’s great. What hurts is how you could easily see the events happening—waging war on the aliens despite no provocation, people using an app to to hunt down and slaughter them...
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It shows how even some of the protestors of the genocide use their movement to cover their own selfish motivations, meanwhile countries taking the situation as an opportunity to vie for power and dominance, rich government officials lie to their people and abandon them…obviously there's a lot of commentary here on how we dehumanize immigrants and minorities and enable genocides for capitalism and political power.
It's very bleak, and there were a lot of episode that had me just feeling sad, especially comparing it to current events. But there's also this interesting focus on normal people trying to live their lives during this alien "invasion", and the kids who still go through the dramas and upsets of everyday life. And especially the “I’d burn down the world for you” intense emotional relationship between Kadode and Ouran, the two teen girl leads.
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Ouran is the main lead, and she’s a chuuni beyond chuuni, acting wacky and cheerful and spouting nonsense-- except if you pay attention, she's saying some pretty valid things—critiques of capitalism, war, government surveillance—but then following it up with something wild like “and that’s why I should rule the world”. You get the sense she’s cloaking an awareness of how shit the world is in humor, and as the show goes on and as her surprisingly intense and weird backstory unfolds, it becomes clear why that is.
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The relationship between Ouran and Kadode is the center of everything--their bond IS the show. It's that kind of ride-or-die, I'd-kill-for-you, I'll-be-by-your-side-even-if-the-whole-world-is-against-you, in-every-life-i'd-find-you-and-love-you, soul-bonded, fiery devotion and love. They are the most important person in each other's lives, full stop. It's those kind of relationships that are so transcendent it goes beyond simple definitions of romantic and platonic. In other words, my kind of shit exactly.
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But, as far as romance goes, Ouran, at least, is definitely queer and the depths of her determination to keep Kadode safe in a world that wants to destroy her girl that would make Homura Madoka Magica blush. (Kadode is more ambiguous, but she’s definitely soul bonded with Ouran. And honestly should just date Ouran because god she needs to be rescued).
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There’s also a gentle empathy for marginalized people underneath all the horror—the girls befriend an alien trying to survive in the guise of a human, and it doesn’t seem like a coincidence that the first person our alien tells absolutely everything to is the gnc/potentially trans person of the group, Makoto (To be specific, they seem to still be figuring out their identity, but they definitely present feminine and specifically came to Tokyo because their small town wouldn’t be okay with how they like to dress). The way Makoto immediately shields their alien friend from others when they make the reveal that they saying “Don’t let them see, it’s not safe” and how it’s followed up by the alien reassuring Makoto that their friends will be okay with it if they take their wig off to swim...it makes the metaphor extremely clear, and it’s always nice when a series can explore marginalized characters both textually and metaphorically.
Through the kids, we get kernels of hope in this story, a reassurance there are kinder people in this world, and a hope that kindness will endure.
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As depressing as the story can be, what it has to say is important and it doesn’t hold back in making you see what it’s going for—from the “Cool Japan” logo flashing right before the  Japanese government gives a weapons demonstration that will later kill citizens and destroy innocents...
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...to the Trump-alike American President (and let me tell you it’s startling to be watching a show in Japanese and suddenly Donald Trump impression in perfect English) *(had to use the manga here because Crunchyroll didn't close-caption this part :/)
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Then there's the American tourists, who were clearly va’d by someone really good at English, potentially a native speaker, and it’s incredibly funny how much of their dialogue has “fuck” in it and seeing the subtitles skip over that. Also much of their dialogue is treating the devastated Japan as a tourist attraction and saying how funny it all is to them. Logan Paul has entered the chat.
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De x 8 very clearly hates America and recognizes it as a blood thirsty colonial power, which is correct, but the show is just as hard on it’s own country, saying the Japanese government would happily get back on the colonizing horse if they had an excuse, and many citizwns would mindlessly support them.
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A small thing I appreciate is far from the usual anime aesthetic where everyone is blandly cute, the anime gives a ton of people ridiculously cartoony features that make everyone distinct—and being goofy looking is not meant to indicate a character is stupid or ugly—Makoto’s a super sympathetic character with giant cartoon buck teeth and one character that’s even pointed out as pretty has like, a pig snout nose. (It also makes it so the character noted as being drop dead gorgeous...actually is, instead of coming off as just as conventionally attractive as the rest)
Soooo a lot of good stuff going into this story. Let’s talk about some caveats.
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There’s a continuing storyline between Kadode and her adult teacher, who takes her to his place to have sex with her. When he does, she ends up ditching him because of her feels for Ouran (gay) and I thought that would be the end of it, but nooope he’s a groomer, they pick up dating again when she’s in college, literally months after the previous encounter. The dude is presented as a scumbag, he cheats on his girlfriend, he seems generally apathetic, his clear discomfort with Kadode calling him “sensei” shows that he knows what he’s doing is wrong …and ultimately the relationship is shown to be unfulfilling, with Kadode directly stating so and acknowledging he’s just advantage. That doesn’t stop it from being uncomfortable though, especially since it’s confirmed he and Kadode have sex eventually (offscreen, thank god) and honestly, I felt it dragged on way too long. The first encounter pretty much demonstrated everything we needed to know about the whole thing in my view.
And of course there’s a ton of potentially triggering content in a story like this—from genocide to suicide to child murder to almost anything you can think of. Also like, one character has a sister complex, but on the milder side for anime. One where it’s conceivably platonic, and it’s not like he goes after her boyfriend Yuri Forger style, so it doesn’t bother me too much. There's also a good dose of fatphobia. And finally moment where a woman reveals she has ADHD (which I've never actually heard anyone say in anime so I actually got a little excited the more fool me) and then is almost immediately shown to be faking it.
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The ending…is another big sticking point for me. It feels disconnected from the rest of the series, mainly focusing on a character we barely know and likely don’t care about and spending very little time with the characters we do, presenting an interesting status quo and immediately abandoning it, and while earlier episodes of the series presented "actions have consequences and we gotta live with them" as a major theme, it was suddenly like, actually they don’t!
The ultimate ending, again, hinges on a decision from a character we don’t care about and honestly feels like a deus ex machina. It felt almost like the author really wanted a happier ending but knew that wasn’t in line with the story he’s told so far, so he just tacked it on. Or maybe it was an editorial mandate, who knows. I think the most satisfying way to see watch episode 1-16 as its own pretty satisfying complete story (which works really well), and then treat episodes 0 and 17 as their own separate thing, a potential additional ending but not the definitive one. At least that’s what I did.
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Overall, De x 8 is a show with a lot to say and it gives you plenty to chew on. While it is often depressing, it is very rewarding. The unbreakable bond between two messy girls, as well as the moments of ordinary joy and small human/alien journeys are the core of the show, and what makes it shine. I definitely encourage you to give it a watch. It's being really slept on, and it shouldn't be.
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